Mind Blowing
by Aeria
Summary: Kurt/Blaine smut. The first time Kurt goes down on Blaine. Now with added: Second Time.
1. Chapter 1

darrensbubblebutt prompted with "How did Kurt react the first time Blaine gave him head" and I misread/let my mind run away with me and wrote the first time Kurt gave Blaine head.

Sorry I'm not sorry.

Title: Mind Blowing  
>Rating: NC-17<br>Summary: The first time Kurt goes down on Blaine  
>Words: 2700<br>Spoilers: None

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><p>The first time Kurt goes down on Blaine it is a bit of a disaster. Just a little bit. Blaine's done it to Kurt three times and Kurt is fully aware of how fantastic it feels but always blushes afterwards because when he remembers being spread out over his bed (or that one time pressed up against his door with Blaine literally on his knees) he remembers that he was naked (mostly) and arching and making embarrassing sounds and probably even more embarrassing faces.<p>

Afterwards Blaine always chuckles and tells him he's beautiful and that he loves him and that one day Kurt will believe him. Kurt really, really hopes so. He's not so self-conscious about his looks, about being naked, about sex, as he was. But he still blushes strawberry red all the goddamn time.

He blushes strawberry red when he tells Blaine with his lips against Blaine's neck that he wants to blow him. But Blaine nods fervently and garbles something out and kisses him hard. When he pulls back he looks Kurt in the eye and says, "You don't have to. Just because I've gone down on you, there's no pressure."

There is, of course there is: to return the favor. But also, Kurt wants to. So Kurt pushes him back onto the bed and straddles his hips and kisses him again. He keeps kissing him and pressing his hips down against him until he's fuzzy with lust and hopes Blaine is too and then he slides down to kneel between his legs and start undoing his trousers.

Above him, Blaine twists across the sheets, his hands grabbing at the duvet and his head turning into the pillow to muffle a moan as Kurt's hands get rough and press into the bulge of his pants. He's turned on and Kurt loves it. He especially loves that from here he can watch it happen because the lights in the room are still on and his boyfriend's shirtless and for once he isn't pressing down hard against him.

God Blaine's perfect.

Kurt pulls the zipper down with too much force and comes close to breaking the cotton that holds the crotch together. He yanks and then realizes those pants aren't coming off with him crouched between Blaine's legs but maybe that's okay and, oh god, he's nervous now.

They're always in the dark. Or at least the shadows. Or at least with their eyes shut. When Blaine does this to him, Kurt keeps his eyes shut. He stares up and, indeed, Blaine's eyelashes are curved low over his cheeks and he's breathing hard.

He's never even taken the time to look at Blaine's cock. Not properly, not like this encounter is about to afford him. It's always just been rubbing and pressing and hands. He knows the weight of it in his palm, but not the color. And certainly not the taste.

He's nervous and unsure. And, shit, what if he's really, really bad at this? What if he's so bad, Blaine opens his eyes and pushes him off and has to _tell _his how to do it properly?

Kurt's got Blaine's pants down to midthigh where they're stretched tight and pressing into the skin because Blaine's spreading his legs and arching up and whining.

Kurt's not even touching him so he does, laying his hands on the exposed flesh between the tight grey boxer briefs and Blaine's pants. His thumbs caress back and forth and Blaine bucks and Kurt _wants_, even if he's terrified.

Oh, for fuck's sakes, he thinks to himself, almost rolling his eyes as he feels his tongue slide across his lips of it's own volition, his eyes narrowing to the outline of Blaine hard under the cotton.

He looks big. Really big. Kurt's got a big mouth, Finn's teased him about it when he sings enough for Kurt to have stretched it as wide as it'll go when he looks in the mirror. Sure, he's thought about taking a whole lot of cock between his lips, down his throat. He's gotten off to that. But this is different.

_Come on._

Kurt's fingers slide beneath the waistband and yank at Blaine's underwear, pulling them down and letting them hold tight beneath his balls and Kurt's just staring. He knows that, has a split second to wonder how weird he is to be captivated by a fucking cock before he just goes right back to staring.

Blaine's hard and jutting and there's a bob coinciding with the fast shift of Blaine's diaphragm as he breathes. His cock curves just slightly up, towards his belly button and there's slickness at the head.

He's big and hard and a little big shorter than Kurt's (but then Kurt's kind of on the large side, he knows that) but maybe thicker. And darker. And there's more hair. Denser. At the base.

Why is that so hot?

And veins. Kurt's always prided himself (in some bizarre, unjustified way) on having a smooth, rosy pink cock. But Blaine's is stained darker and there are tracks of almost purple-blue running up the underside. They look contoured, like they'd feel almost rough against Kurt's tongue. Like they'd pulse along with Blaine's heartbeat.

Kurt has to swallow because otherwise the saliva across his tongue is sure to start leaking out the corners of his mouth. This is terrifying. How is it all going to fit?

He's brought back to reality (away from that nice place in his mind where Blaine's cock isn't actually attached to Blaine and is something he might take home and study for a while) when Blaine moans out his name and rocks his hips up.

"Right," Kurt says, mostly to himself. His hands smooth up over the scrunched cotton to Blaine's hips and he holds him down, just like he'd planned in his head a million times. This couldn't be _that_ hard. He just had to do exactly what the internet has taught him: lips over teeth, sink down, suck, lick on the way up and repeat. And hope he doesn't gag. That his jaw doesn't cramp. That Blaine doesn't get bored and start trying to fuck into his mouth.

Shit.

He looks up Blaine's body and again is utterly overwhelmed by how gloriously naked he is. How stretched out and lithe and contoured and dark this boy is under him.

Blaine's hands have stretched back and are grabbing at the pillow either side of his head and his eyes are still closed.

Here goes nothing then.

Kurt keeps repeating the instructions in his mind as he wraps a hand around the base and leaves his other hand pressing down hard against Blaine's hip. Blaine bucks and Kurt tries not to think about what will happen if he does that into Kurt's mouth.

He presses his lips to the head, trying out the smell and the heat of him and neither are disagreeable. He hasn't said it out loud but he likes the smell of Blaine where it's strongest. He doesn't know if it's sweat or pheromones or sex, perhaps it's all three, but he likes the smells Blaine makes. The concentrate of it all around Blaine's cock is intoxicating and the heat against his lips is nice.

Lips over teeth.

He slides down. Just an inch and lets his tongue slide over then around the head while Blaine's hips squirm under his forearm.

It's not unpleasant. He still has no idea how it's all going to fit but this is okay. The tip of his tongue finds the slit of Blaine's cock easily and it taste salty and bitter. It's not a taste he's instantly in love with but it doesn't make him gag like he'd almost expected. Pressing his tongue there makes Blaine moan loud and high and then gasp out his name ad that kind of makes the taste a little addictive.

He thinks this is how vodka works as well.

Another inch down and his tongue on the underside and he takes an experimental breath through his nose and finds that that's just fine. Lets the weight of Blaine's cock against his tongue press and the smell of sweat and Blaine and the taste of precome, he guesses, inundate him.

Just fine.

He still has no idea where the remaining inches are going to go.

Kurt looks up through his lashes for Blaine and can only see stretched out sweat-slicked skin and the angles of his jaw as he thrashes his head back into the pillows and moans again.

Kurt wonders if Blaine's exaggerating for his benefit or whether it's just because he's a performance-whore all and any day of the week.

Right: suck.

Kurt's cheeks hollow and he tries to convince his brain that the thing in his mouth is just a giant straw and that's the right suction, that's what the internet said. He sucks and breathes and tries to keep his lips tight as he pulls back, gasps around Blaine's cock and then sinks back down and sucks again.

Above him, Blaine's still moaning like he's dying and Kurt has half a mind to pull off and tell him to shut up because even though they have the house to themselves that's no excuse for Blaine to upset the neighbours and all the dogs on the street and act like a whore. He doesn't, he slides a little lower and sucks and tastes and arches to feel a frisson up his own spine because if he ignores the questions of:

How is it all going to fit?

and

What happens when I've been doing this for half an hour and my jaw cramps up?

Other than that he rather enjoys this.

Another suck and a little of his tongue up what he thinks must be one of those delicious looking veins, under the head and he licks up the slit: bitter again and Blaine's still feels achingly hard in his mouth: he considers that in and of itself an achievement.

A deep breath through his nose and he sucks three inches into his mouth, the hand around the base, squeezing with the motion and again he debates what on earth he's meant to do to keep this up because it's been all of thirty seconds and Blaine's just moaning and swearing under his breath.

Now above his breath, yelping out "Fuck" and then "Kurt" and then "OhMyGodShitFuckI'm_So_Sorry!" and his hands are in Kurt's hair and are tight and pulling and harsh and Not Good For The Roots and Kurt's pulled off and away and _What the fuck?_ But something warm and wet hits his chin and Kurt's eyes go wide as Blaine's hips rocket up off the bed and his forearm goes with them, no match for the kinetic energy and Kurt stares, absolutely stares, as Blaine's cock, his hand still wrapped around the base, pulses—fucking _pulses_—and spurts another line of cum up Blaine's stomach. Then another, less powerful and falling down across the dark hair. Then more but just leaking out and down and over Kurt's fingers and—

_Holy Shit. _

Blaine's hips fall back onto the bed and he's limp and sated and Kurt's hand unwraps, a finger at a time, from Blaine's cock so it can flop forward into the come on his stomach and instantly start to soften. It's still insanely hot to look at and Kurt has to, for some reason, divert his eyes.

_Oh. So that's how it goes, then. _

He watches the rise and fall of Blaine's belly (still come streaked) even out and slow and only after a full minute has passed does he let his eyes stray up, over Blaine's chest to his pursed lips and the arm Blaine's thrown across his eyes and the deep red blush high on his cheeks.

Oh.

Not a performance-whore then. Kurt can't help the straightening of his back and the grin that settles on his lips when he realizes just how fast and hard Blaine had gotten off on that. And Kurt's still hard in his pants. Hard and he's pretty sure desperate.

Shifting up, not quite sure what to do with Blaine's softening cock and all the come, Kurt watches him closely as he wonders where to put his wet hand. He kind of…

He raises it quickly to his lips and licks and he's tasted his own come before, for sure, and it was kind of gross but not terrible. This is…it tastes the same, mostly, but it's not even a little bit gross.

He's upset for a moment that Blaine pulled him away at the last minute. He thinks wistfully, _Next time_, and then he looks back to Blaine who's gone a little too still and is still hiding behind his forearm. Kurt leans up, he doesn't mean to press close, but it's kind of unavoidable and Blaine shivers at the contact between them.

Kurt's hand wraps around his wrist and pull his arm away, staring at him with bright eyes and a smile. "Hey," he says.

Blaine stares and Kurt can't guess at all what's he's thinking. Then he says, "Hey," and then, "I'm sorry." There's a pause and Kurt doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what or how to say it and then Blaine keeps going: "Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry. I didn't realize it felt like _that. _I didn't mean to…I'd last longer if…Oh god, it's on your…"

Blaine reaches up and his fingers run under Kurt's chin and Kurt can't help but tilt his head and nuzzle into it like a cat except it's slippery and that's Blaine's come and it makes him whimper.

_Oh he likes that. _

Blaine, somehow, doesn't notice, and just draws his fingers away and then slides up to reach for a tissue. Kurt pushes the mental image helpfully provided to him of Blaine sliding his fingers inside Kurt's mouth and leaving them there until they're licked clean.

Blaine keeps cleaning himself up. His hands shaking and his eyes flickering as he mumbles under his breath and Kurt just stares. Blaine pulls his underwear back up and then his trousers and Kurt guesses there won't be any mostly-naked cuddling afterwards tonight. "I'm really, truly, so, so sorry, Kurt. I can't believe I…" Blaine trails off.

But Kurt pushes, like he so often does: "Sorry what?"

Blaine stares. "I didn't realize I'd get off that fast."

"You're sorry you didn't realize?" Kurt's hand has fallen to his own crotch and is pressing down half-hoping Blaine won't notice but half-hoping he really, really will. "Or sorry you were so fast? Or sorry you almost came in my mouth?"

Blaine stares and his eyes flicker down to Kurt's hand. "All of them?" he tries.

Kurt sighs and nudges him in the shoulder before he falls beside him, on his back and stretching his legs and feeling more bold and more powerful than he has in forever.

So that's what giving a blowjob is like. It's not long or difficult or gross.

With Blaine it's entirely the opposite.

Except Kurt kind of wants more. Even if Blaine doesn't.

He lies back and hums at Blaine and Blaine's entirely content to slide his hand down Kurt's naked chest and set to work on his pants. This will be relatively quick and relatively easy. Mouths pressed and eyes closed the whole time while Blaine's hand works in concert with Kurt's to get him off.

They'll whine together and Kurt while mumble Blaine's name against his lips when he comes. They'll fall back and snuggle just a little in their jeans and Blaine will apologise again and Kurt will shake his head and let a thousand thoughts flood his mind but just mumble back that it was fine. Because it was.

It _so _was.

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><p>I think there will probably be a follow up piece to this one. Just so you all know to keep an eye out!<p> 


	2. Planning, Practice, Research

Title: Planning, Practice, Research.

Rating: NC-17  
>Summary: The second time Kurt goes down on Blaine (Follow up to the First time Kurt goes down on Blaine)<p>

Words: 4500

A/N: Porny porn. That's it.

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><p>The second time Kurt goes down on Blaine, he done a bit more research and a lot more planning and an awful lot of thinking. That last bit is a mistake. Thinking about going down on Blaine, as it turns out, makes Kurt's cock ache and his hands wander and little inexplicable whimpers escape his throat. Thinking about Blaine moaning and thrashing just because a bare couple of inches are between Kurt's lips. Thinking about taking just a little bit more. Thinking about the one vein he's traced and the contours of the head. The color. The heat. The desperation in Blaine's voice when he came. The come on Kurt's chin. The come on Blaine's belly.<p>

How bad was it really that Kurt's tireless research and following careful deletion of his entire internet history had turned up one very specific, very undeniable, fact: Kurt was, according to the internet, going to be a bit of a cockslut. Or maybe a comeslut. He couldn't quite decide which. Maybe both. Maybe they were the same thing, he wasn't sure though.

He was mostly upset that he hadn't had the chance to deduce much more. But god he liked what had happened. He'd gotten off a dozen times in a few days and always to the idea of Blaine's cock in his mouth. It had nothing to do with his own orgasm and he could be a selfish brat—he knew—so this was a very strange fantasy to be getting off to.

But he got off on it hard. And Blaine, undeniably, got off on having Kurt's mouth around him. He got off fast.

So the plan.

And the research. Kurt watched a lot of porn in those few days. He didn't get off to it because there was invariably at least one moment where one guy looked like he was not at all enjoying it. When it came to blowjobs, that tended to be the one gagging and spluttering and basically being used for his mouth and nothing else.

Kurt was, surprisingly, okay with that premise. More than okay. But the man attached to the mouth never moaned and grinned and came off the act itself. Kurt kind of thought that was wrong. Maybe he was just watching the wrong porn.

Anyway, not the point, he suddenly knew he liked doing this. And suddenly taking all those inches down his throat really didn't matter (which let in the thought that, good god, he _wanted_ to) and just making Blaine come undone and loud and noisy and thrashing and begging and coming. In. His. Mouth. That was what was important.

So he researched and planned and thought about it and Blaine kind of forgot about it to the extent that he was a bit mortified and a bit bemused that Kurt hadn't yelled at him and they could go back to frotting and handjobs, right?

Tuesday night rolled around and Kurt literally paid Finn off. Gave him thirty dollars and told him about that play that was on and how Rachel would be enthralled by it and…off went Finn. Tuesday night was datenight for Burt and Carole and Kurt worked hard to keep them in a good mood in the hours after school, prior to them leaving.

They were laughing when they walked out the door and talking about catching a movie.

Kurt was confident that he had the house to himself for a few hours at least.

Blaine turned up. Finn was meant to be there. The promise had been for a movie and a home made meal (Kurt, obviously, while Blaine sang along to Kurt's choice of CD and then did the dishes). Except the kitchen was immaculate and the TV was off and the house was silent.

Blaine walked in, eyebrow cocked and Kurt closed the door behind him and then, rather wantonly (because yes, fine, he was already hard and he'd already gotten himself off and tried to think of girly bits and football and nothing was making his hard-on go away) Kurt pressed himself up against the wood of the closed door and, just a little, not on purpose, fluttered his eyelashes.

When Blaine turned back to him, question in his eyes, Kurt's demeanour, the casual overly large (thank god) sweater and the skin-tight jeans, the socks on his feet, must have given half of it away, because Blaine squeaks out: "Kurt?" and then Kurt's flinging himself at him.

When the fuck did he become so sex-crazed?

Precisely when Blaine had almost, _almost,_ come in his mouth.

He kisses Blaine for all he's worth. Tongue in his mouth, behind his teeth and teasing at his, nails raking down his neck and tugging at the too-tight collar of his shirt. He kisses him until Blaine's falling into him, leaning heavily and sighing between fast breaths and then whimpering because Kurt's hips have snapped forward and pressed the length of him up against Blaine's hip.

Then Kurt pulls back and grabs at Blaine's hands, both of them, fingers intertwining and pulling him back with him towards the stairs.

"Coming?" he asks, aiming for seductive and perfectly hitting it. He feels confident and sexy and it's wonderful.

Blaine stutters out: "Where?" but follows him up the stairs anyway.

Kurt doesn't answer, just tries to keep his breathing even and instead of it being how he'd imagined—needing to convince himself to keep going, to keep doing—it's exactly the opposite. He has to keep telling himself to slow down, to think about this because this isn't _him, _is it?

He pushes Blaine back with his hands on his stomach, pushes him down onto the bed in a messy heap of limbs and shock and keeps his eyes on him as his hands move too quickly over his own clothes. He yanks everything off but his boxer briefs without giving himself time to breathe and is gasping when he realizes he's standing there mostly naked with the bedroom door open behind him and Blaine looking only slightly dishevelled in front.

"Take your clothes off," he snaps and realizes how sharp he sounds when Blaine's brow creases and his head tilts. "Please." Kurt turns and slams the door. He didn't mean to slam the door, he's just in a bit of a rush.

Back to Blaine and Blaine's still staring but when Kurt drops to his knees at the end of the bed and starts pulling Blaine's laces loose with his fingers Blaine's own hands spring into action and his shirt is tugged haphazardly over his head in one quick movement. The undershirt follows and then he's pulling free the button, then zipper of his jeans without really processing what's going on.

Kurt's hands grip the denim at his ankles and yank and Blaine's squirming at the friction to get them off. They're thrown to the side and Kurt's moving back in and Blaine's trying to speak but Kurt's hands are at his underwear waistband and pulling those just as cleanly down his legs and off.

Blaine's left just in his socks—why on why does he choose today to wear socks?—and Kurt's fingers slide over those and then pull them away as well. Then Kurt looks him up and down, at the blush that isn't obvious on his cheeks but that brightens his ears and his chest. He's up on his elbows and seems to be fighting the urge to cross his legs, somehow, and cover himself.

His dick's not so red like this, barely even half hard, just kind of waking up and undoubtedly confused, just like Blaine. Kurt's lips quirk to think that and he is properly, fully hard in his boxer briefs but neatly pressed up in the line of where his thigh meets his hip. Blaine could tell, if he looked but he's staring hard at Kurt's face and breathing hard.

"What?"

"Shhhh…" Kurt cuts across him. He debates telling Blaine the plan. Or at least saying something reassuring like that he can say 'no' or 'stop' at any time and that's fine. Except Blaine already knows that and he hasn't said no.

As Kurt pushes Blaine up the bed and then straddles, not touching, over Blaine's knees, he thinks not talking is something he might want to get very, very used to. Kurt falls forward onto his hands and Blaine squirms higher until only his feet are hanging off the edge of the bed.

Leaning forward, meeting Blaine's mouth half way as he arches up onto his elbows again, Kurt kisses him, teasing with his mouth as his hands dance down Blaine's chest and his sides, finding everything even more sensitive than usual because they haven't warmed up.

His tongue dips into Blaine's mouth, coaxes Blaine's up into Kurt's and Kurt sucks experimentally, he feels his eyelids flutter closed as he imagines something else in his mouth and he blushes at how badly he wants that.

Immediately he's sliding down, keeping Blaine there with his hands splayed over the dip at the bottom of Blaine's ribs as he unstraddles Blaine's thighs and spreads his legs open. Blaine moans above him and Kurt takes it as a good sign.

He kneels then, between Blaine's legs and tries not to stare as his knees fall, just subtly, further open. The last thing he needs is to get distracted.

Blaine's hands on his cheeks don't help and Kurt is downright dismayed to see Blaine's cock starting to harden.

"Hands up, on the headboard," he would sound snappy if it weren't for his voice dropping an octave and sounding a little broken.

Saying that wasn't in the plan.

Blaine stares at him and the seconds stretch out agonisingly slowly as Kurt stares back. Maybe that's a bit much, demanding that. Maybe this is all a bit much. Maybe having the lights out and them just kind of going along with getting off was what they were meant to be doing.

Not planning and playing and demanding Blaine put his hands above his head, oh _god, _why was that so hot?

Kurt counts to five slowly in his head just in case Blaine's coming to his own conclusions.

He gets to four before Blaine's hands slides off Kurt's cheek and neck and slowly move in an arc to behind his head, his palms finding the unsatisfyingly flat wood of the headboard of Kurt's bed. His hands press flat there and he stares back at Kurt, eyes dark with lust and a question.

A swallow and still Kurt's not so much fighting the fear of continuing, but rather the fear that he's not really having any trouble at all. His hands find Blaine's thighs and push him just a little wider. He's splayed and gorgeous and Kurt's never been so in love with a physical body before. He can see Blaine's cock, harder again and darker and shifting with Blaine's breath. His balls which aren't as hairy as Kurt would have guessed but are drawn close to his body and…tempting.

Kurt blinks to realize that. Well.

His eyes flicker down lower and it's the first time he's really even thought in less-than-abstract-terms about Blaine…there and now it's just…there. Light, soft, dark hair over pale skin that shades to darker and that impossibly tight hole, seems impossibly tight because Kurt wants to…

Back on point because Blaine just whimpered and Kurt thinks it means: Hey, stop looking at me like I'm something to be considered and calculated and then tactfully devoured.

When Kurt actually looks up Blaine's staring at him with his fingertips still pressed to the headboard. Gaze skittering down, Kurt wonders how much more staring it will take to get Blaine completely hard.

Which isn't in the plan either. The plan's better.

His hands run up Blaine's calves and thighs and he leans in close and hovers, mouth inches from Blaine's dick, and gives his boyfriend a second to realize what's happening and resist if he needs to.

Blaine's hips just twitch up when Kurt breathes out, "Hands stay there until I say so." Then Kurt's mouth is opening and his lips are sliding down around the head of Blaine's cock and there's no bitter tang, just the saltiness of sweat and Blaine's still kind of only half-hard against his tongue which is good.

Very good, Kurt decides and closes his eyes and concentrates on the feel of Blaine's cock. Warm and smooth and if Kurt pauses just for a second, just the press of his tongue to the underside as he breathes slow around it, he thinks he can feel it getting heavier.

Above him, Blaine gives another whine and his hips rock, pushing more between Kurt's lips. Right. Kurt's hands come up to settle on Blaine's hips and rest some of his weight there as he hums something discouraging around Blaine's cock.

No hands. No trying to fuck my mouth.

Kurt wishes he hadn't thought that last bit because he wants to get so damn good at this and…he's getting ahead of himself again.

Under him, Blaine stills, as though he's got the message, but his skin is still hot under Kurt's hands and Blaine's knees have drawn in and up and are resting close to Kurt's sides.

Kurt twists his whole head, sucking lightly and drawing more cock into his mouth. It's easier with Blaine still not quite hard, there's more bend and less length and width. Kurt breathes a steady breath through his nose and blinks his eyes open to watch up Blaine's body, searching for his face, as he slides his lips down and tries to relax. Blaine's arching back though and all Kurt can see are the contours of Blaine's abdomen and chest, the sharp angle of his jaw as his head presses back into the pillow, and the scratch of this fingers against the wood.

There's too much in Kurt's mouth and it's pressed up across his hard palate and then his soft and it tickles and makes his breath come in a stutter and then not at all as he stills and holds his breath and Blaine's cock slides back, into his throat.

It aches and the hinge of his jaw twinges and he can feel his pulse quickening and thinks he's about to gag but holds, waits, holds. His lips press to the hair at the base of Blaine's cock and his eyes dart down to see skin, right there and he has _all_ of Blaine's cock in his mouth. He can't breathe and it aches and there's panic fighting at the base of his skull for dominance. And Blaine's cock is harder now and feels huge on his tongue and hot where it keeps pressing back too far.

It's shockingly, unbelievably good and Kurt would stay here, whimpering and moaning and swallowing—god, he didn't even realize he _could_ but he can and he is—forever and ever except it's still terrifyingly lots.

Kurt slides back too quickly because his eyes really are watering and Blaine's cock is very quickly getting too much and Kurt has a scrambled scattering of thoughts that Blaine's cock will get even bigger and thicker and it can't while it's lodged in Kurt's throat.

At least not this time.

So Kurt's mouth slicks back, messy and rubbing his tongue over and he'd love, _love_, to keep going except his throat tickles and he needs to pull off and cough, just for a second, and not look at Blaine.

He knows Blaine will look worried and say something stupid. Or apologize.

Instead he looks at Blaine's cock, bigger, thicker, and wet with saliva—he darts forward and licks up the side as wet as he can and when he pulls back there's a fine line of spit hanging from his lips to the tip of Blaine's cock and that's so _pretty_—and wet: because all of that was just in Kurt's mouth.

That knowledge ripples right through Kurt, unravels right down to his balls and he is achingly hard in his underwear and will get off on just this. He leans back forward and sucks Blaine's cock between his lips, so much more confident now that he's done the hardest part.

He sucks and licks and twists his head as he slides down. Only half the length in his mouth and one hand moves to grip the base while his arm smooths back over Blaine's hips to keep him there.

Blaine rocks even harder now that he's being held down and Kurt files that away for later. Works his mouth lower and lets himself go as deep as he can before it starts to tickle and his breath starts to catch. Up and his hand squeezes and follows his mouth as his lips pop off with an obscene sound and his hand works fast around the head, spreading saliva and the friction too easy. Twists and rubs his thumb down a vein and then leans to lick the tip of his tongue over the same ridge.

"Jesus, _Fuck!_" Blaine shouts it and then clamps a hand down with a smack over his mouth as his eyes go wide. Kurt, for his part just stares at him, lips still wide around the head of his cock and sucking absent-mindedly.

Blaine's voice lowers to a hiss as his hand moves back up to the headboard, "I'm so _sorry_!"

Kurt pulls off once more, his hand still moving. "For being pornstar loud?" Oh god, he can't believe he just said that, but he holds the smile across his lips and watches Blaine's eyes widen again, feels his abdomen muscles under his arm tense. "Just remind me not to blow you when there are people home."

Blaine just groans and it's pretty obvious to both of them that this has been a very, very good plan. Blaine wants to ask where Kurt learnt all of this. What he thinks he's doing. When exactly he got so bold and so dirty. And if he can please, please move his hands.

But Kurt kisses up the underside, kissing up the darkest, most contoured (his favourite) vein and then licks his tongue harsh over the head. He swallows down the taste with a hum and Blaine groans above him.

"You can be loud this time," Kurt says and he's as surprised as Blaine to hear himself sounding shy. "No one's home."

"Shit…." is all Blaine lets rattle out, his hips straining as Kurt licks out again and his hand keeps pumping. "You want me to be?" he asks.

Kurt aims for a shrug, for something like nonchalance but finds himself grinning and saying, "Yes," with a coy flutter of his eyelashes.

Blaine lets loose with a rough groan that's louder than ever but resonates with the push of his cock back into Kurt's mouth. Kurt spends precious seconds sucking down the length and swiping back and forth with his tongue. His hand pumps and Blaine keeps groaning and arching under him. Back and off and his lips down the side, open mouth and dirty and the hand that was stroking slides off and down to run the back of his knuckles dancing over Blaine's balls.

Another moan and Blaine's yelping out something incoherent and Kurt's name and straining harder up.

Knuckles back across and his hand turns to test the weight of Blaine's balls and let his fingers tease as he stares up and listens to Blaine call out his name again.

"Fuck, Kurt, fuck—" he whines. "Fuck, you gotta—" his nails actually scratch into the wood and Kurt can hear it, can see the tendons of his boyfriend's neck as his face presses to the side, into the pillow and he moans again. "Please."

One more suck as Kurt takes most of Blaine's cock into his mouth with ease and then he pulls off.

This isn't in the plan either.

He dips his face lower and, without warning, presses in close to Blaine's balls. Nuzzles into the sweat and the hair and the smell of sex and has that split second of thinking this this is technically kind of, probably really, quite gross, and then remember how much he likes cock in his mouth, and then hear Blaine—

"Jesus Christ, Kurt, oh my god, Kurt!"

And Kurt just sucks at the skin, ignores the hair against his lips and then doesn't because even _that_ is hot, and then has a ball in his mouth and is licking and sucking and rolling it across his tongue.

Blaine's still swearing and his hips snap up, cock dribbling precome, as soon as Kurt's arm slides away. His hand dips to his own lap and pushes once harsh up the length of his cock and groans around Blaine's balls at how close to coming he is.

He shifts his mouth to the other side and keeps working Blaine's cock with his hand, meeting each upward thrust of Blaine's hips with his fist pushing down, matching Blaine's moans and obscenities with his own quiet whimpers around the taste of sweat and sex and balls in his mouth.

He is getting off on this _so fucking hard_. And later on he's going to think about that and probably get off again.

But now.

"Kurt, Kurt," Kurt looks up and Blaine yelps out his name one more time. "Kurt! I'm really…I'm close." He gasps in a breath and Kurt slides his lips tightly off Blaine's balls and sits up a bit straighter, his hand slowing ever so slightly in its strokes. "Shit. Fuck."

Kurt's voice sounds broken when he speaks and it makes the hand that's pressing down across his own dick press even tighter. "You can move your hands then." He swallows to try to get his voice even. "But gentle," he warns and hopes Blaine doesn't do anything stupid.

But he just really wants someone tugging on his hair and holding him down around Blaine's cock.

Blaine's hands fly immediately to his hair, fingers sliding in and nails scratching at Kurt's scalp. He doesn't try to angle, just holds on for now as Kurt slides his mouth back down. Blaine's hips do snap up though and suddenly Kurt's lips are stretched tight around more cock than he'd planned and it tastes perfect and feels hot and heavy and he's moaning around it.

God, if he comes before Blaine, he'll never live it down.

Kurt sucks harder and the hand around the base shifts and teases at Blaine's balls again, gently kneading them as he swallows around the head of his cock and then slips back down.

Kurt feels Blaine's fingers twist painfully in his hair before he hears Blaine's sharp intake of breath and the following keen—high-pitched and stunning. Kurt's eyes dart up and look at him again, all stretched out and naked and sweaty.

Hips up again and Kurt just sucks harder, keeps his lips tight and tries to breathe around the moan he can't hold back.

"I'm coming," tumbles out of Blaine's lips before he keens again and sounds raw. His fingers, still beautifully tight, tug up and Kurt's having none of that and ignores the pull and just sinks down another inch, hand on Blaine's balls stilling as his lips move in small sucking movements.

He tastes it spilling across his tongue. Hotter than when he licked it off his fingers, less sticky, but it tastes sharp and salty and intoxicating. He feels it, he swears he does, paint the roof of his mouth in a line and he moans and fights back his own orgasm just for a few seconds, just a few.

Blaine's still moaning, his hips still working his cock just lightly in Kurt's mouth and there's more. God, there's so much and Kurt can feel it slicking past his lips and back down Blaine's cock and he snaps his eyes open and pulls off to watch the last dribble of come slide down the length with what's dripped from his mouth.

He has a mouthful of come.

Oh fuck, and Blaine's looking at him like he's god and staring from Kurt's mouth to his own dick and the _mess_.

Kurt presses his tongue up to the roof of his mouth and wonders why on earth anyone would ever look at the debauched, still-desperate, completely undone mess splayed out and _spit_.

He swallows and matches the shift of his throat with a hard drag of his hand up the length of his cock still in his boxer briefs and has one gratifying moment of seeing Blaine look even more undone than ever as Blaine realizes and moans and then Kurt's eyes are slamming shut and his hips are snapping so he's kneeling up between Blaine's still-spread legs and he's coming hard in his underwear from the barest of touches.

Kurt lets himself whimper through it, his hand pushing up and down through the cotton until he's spent and the wetspot is obvious and he's toppling forward with the taste of come still inundating his mouth.

Every time he swallows it slide over his tongue, diluting and hits the back of his throat again.

He wants to slip back down and wrap his mouth against Blaine's cock already. But instead he just cuddles into the space beneath Blaine's arm and presses his lips to the side of his chest, his breath coming out in a rattle. Eventually he has to turn his head and glance up.

Blaine's staring again.

"What?" Kurt asks.

Blaine scrambles for the ability to speak while Kurt's lips just curve into a smile that he presses back against Blaine's skin. "You…" it's all he's got at the moment and Kurt laughs and feels his cheeks burn red.

"I really, _really_, like doing that," Kurt whispers, his leg crossing over Blaine's, his toes tickling at his calf.

"And I am never, ever going to stop you."

They share another soft laugh and a smile and a silence starts to stretch.

Blaine interrupts it: "Can I kiss you?"

Brow creasing, Kurt angles his head back up and is about to ask why but then he swallows again and tastes it. Oh. He shrugs and leans up and to press his lips chastely to Blaine's.

He lets Blaine be the one to lick across his lips and then into his mouth. Lets him taste what's left there and pushes away filthy, dirty versions that are immediately obvious. Blaine groans into his mouth and Kurt's grinning at it.

"When does everyone get home?" Blaine asks.

Kurt looks to the clock on his bedside table and Blaine's barely been in his house for a half hour. "We have hours."

Blaine sighs happily under him and stretches his body out a little. "Very good."


End file.
